Imprisoned in Nightmares
by Lady Charity
Summary: He was in a living hell, and the only light in this perpetual darkness was now merely a figment of his imagination. PreSweeney during his years of imprisonment.


Hell.

That was _exactly_ where he was.

Benjamin Barker tiredly flexed his nimble fingers, as he lay defeated on the sickly stone floor. His breathing was jaded and jagged, as it had been for the past ten years. The obsidian shadows of the cell had swallowed him whole and painted his skin the palest hue of white. His dark, dying eyes darted around the dungeon. His eyes were the only part of him that was alive.

He felt dead and overpowered. His soul, mind, and heart had already died, but he was still breathing and _appearing_ alive. Truth be told, he had been dead at the moment he was condemned to this wretched black pit in the world. He was dead when he was separated from Lucy for eternity.

_Lucy_. The angelic name shot a pang of hope and perhaps even happiness in his heart. His beautiful, virtuous, kind Lucy. He closed his eyes just to be able to see her laughing face. His fingers twitched slightly when he imagined himself stroking her soft gold hair, and a sudden wave of warmth washed over him before he was cruelly drowned again in the icy air of the cell.

_Benjamin_, her tender voice whispered in his ear. Her voice made his whole dead body tingle as he slowly opened his eyes. _Benjamin, darling, it's me…_

"Lucy?" His voice crackled like a dying fire. "Lucy, is that you?"

In his eyes he saw the familiar bright streets of wonderful London again. The sun glowed bright yellow, throwing out its glowing rays like flower would with its petals. It was warm and bright, with a gentle breeze caressing Benjamin's face every now and then. But he quickly ignored all these beauties, for he had eyes for the loveliest of them all.

Lucy was there. She strolled on the cobblestone road, clutching the beautiful Johanna in her protective arms. Her gold hair matched the sun, and her very presence made the water in the fountain shine like diamonds and the nearby flowers by the flower shop seemed to flourish their petals. Benjamin rubbed his eyes. Was this really his Lucy, or a seraph in disguise? He couldn't move, speak, or even breath, fearing that if he even took a breath, it was shatter the beautiful scene.

"Benjamin!" She turned around and at the sight of her husband, her face glowed with pleasure and her eyes were flooded with laughter. Benjamin felt his heart swell with joy as she trotted closer, her silk skirt fluttering behind her. "Benjamin, darling, where have you been? I've been looking for you!"

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered. Was this a dream, or was this real? It felt _so, so_ real that he could even taste the London air. _Please_ let it be real, _please._

"Where have you been, Benjamin?" asked Lucy.

Benjamin opened his mouth but froze. Where _had _he been? Where was he know? Was he even anywhere before now? Was this a dream? Or was this real, and the dungeon was actually a dream? The thoughts and questions raced in his head like a hurricane.

"Benjamin, dear, are you all right?" asked Lucy gently.

"I'm fine," Benjamin assured her quickly. He didn't want to do anything that would harm or even worry his virtuous Lucy. "I love you so much, Lucy. I love you, I love you, I love you…" Benjamin slowly reached a hand towards her, yearning to pull her towards him, to embrace her, kiss her, to never let go of her ever again…

But as his fingers brushed her delicate shoulder, the dream shattered. Benjamin felt his fingers stroke the damp, cobwebbed stone of his cell. Lucy and London were immediately swept away like dust, and her graceful voice dimmed from a whisper to nothingness.

"A dream…" Benjamin murmured to himself, as the bitter cold air washed upon him once more. "Just a dream, and nothing more…"

His Lucy and Johanna were gone, perhaps forever. He was nowhere near London, and he'll never be with them ever again. His heart flooded with pain and mourning that it hurt so, so much. It tore his chest apart and made him cry out in agony. He curled up into a ball on the grimy floor of the dungeon. Whether it was to perhaps warm himself, or to protect himself from any more pain, he didn't know. His eyes burned with hot tears and he didn't even bother to hold them back. He let them stream down his face and rain onto the floor.

Those were the last tears that Sweeney Todd ever shed.


End file.
